


Wrinkles

by SapphyreLily



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, M/M, study session
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:32:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9207014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily
Summary: He frowns a lot, and you worry that it'll leave creases on his skin.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bianoyami (poeticalcreation)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticalcreation/gifts).



> Prompt: I want to touch Semi's forehead and smooth out that frown that's there more often than not

You pluck a grape from the bowl, popping it into your mouth and chewing slowly. The text in front of you is dry – not overbearingly boring, but still incredibly taxing.

You sigh and flip the page.

The chair next to you scrapes as it’s pulled out, and you look up to see your classmate, who _should have been here an hour ago._

You open your mouth to admonish him for his lateness, but he spreads the papers in his arms across his side of the table, pulling a sheet out and putting it in front of you silently.

“I don't understand this one.”

_Well_ , you think, _at least he was studying?_

You swallow the grape, and clear your throat. “What don’t you understand about it?”

\-----

It’s been half an hour, and he’s already fidgeting, yawning too much and shifting in his chair. Based on past experience, you know he can only get worse from here out. So you hold back a sigh and poke him with your pencil.

“Have a grape.”

He gives you a bewildered look – honest-to-goodness freezing and staring at you – as if grapes are some alien cuisine and it’s his first time hearing about them. You level a glare at him, pushing your half empty bowl closer to him.

“Take a grape, Semi-kun.”

Slowly, as if he’ll be chewed out for obeying and taking your food, he reaches out and picks a grape, hesitantly bringing it up to his lips.

You roll your eyes.

“ _Eat_ the grape, Semi-kun.”

“I’m eating it!” He protests, popping the fruit into his mouth and crunching noisily. But his posture does relax a little, so you point out the next problem, and ask what he doesn’t understand about it.

\-----

It’s nearly ten when he finally gives up, his frown turning into a grimace, the wrinkle in his forehead deepening. He doesn’t throw his pencil across the room (because he’s actually civilised when Tendou isn’t around), but he does grip it a little too tightly, and you can see his teeth where he’s biting his lip in frustration.

You watch him for a moment, wondering if you should say anything because you _do_ understand his struggle.

You give in after a few more minutes. He looks so _tortured_. “Maybe we should stop for the night,” you suggest.

His eyes snap up, expression fiery. It’s the same look he gets when he’s called on in class and gives the wrong answer, but decides to fight for his point anyway. “No!”

When you give him an unimpressed look, he huffs and jabs the question with his pencil. “I’m already so stupid, I can’t give up now.”

“I didn’t say _give up_ , I said _let’s stop for the night_ , because it’s late and our brains are tired.”

“I need to continue,” he says stubbornly, and the wrinkle dips into a crease.

You stare at him for a few moments, watching him struggle with the question. You think it is a fitting metaphor for the struggle inside you, except that you make decisions faster than he does.

You reach out and place your hand on top of his, and he stills, muscles tense. “You’ll break the paper.”

“Well, it’s breaking me,” he mutters.

He is _so_ ridiculous, you think.

You force his hand sideways, until he drops the pencil, and he looks up, frown in full force. “[Last name]-san–”

Against the screams of your logic, your free hand comes up, thumb pressing against the crease between his brows, brushing against the skin. His face slackens as he stares at you, the crease disappearing, words falling dead.

(His hair is soft against your hand, smoother than it looks. Your heart is feels like a hummingbird; fast and thrumming and flighty.)

You brush against the spot a few more times, before pulling away to poke at his forehead. “You’ll get wrinkles if you frown so much.”

He gapes, then splutters, “I _do not_ have wrinkles!”

“But you will if you don’t stop frowning so much.” You pull back, then wipe your fingers on his sleeve, not looking at him. “Your face is oily.”

He snorts, and you peek to see his expression relaxing into amusement. “Then don’t touch my face.” Reaching out to steal the last grape, he picks up his pencil and pushes the paper towards you, pointing at the question that had been bothering him. “So, how do you do this?”

You sigh exaggeratedly, but smile as you begin explaining.

He doesn’t say anything about what happened, and neither do you. If your hands brush a little more often after that, well, it’s nothing be flustered about.

**Author's Note:**

> This was mildly self indulgent haha


End file.
